Page 2 of We Shouldn't Be Together
“Oh, this is excellent.” She licks her lips, and her scheming grin changes her mood. “If he ditches classes, his coach will bench him from football games. Football is his life.”
“That’s probably because of how much he’s hurting without you.” I watch the wonder in her eyes as she revels in her ex’s misfortune. “So, are we good?”
“Pfft.“ She looks down her nose at me. “Why? Did you break up with him for me?”
The contents of my stomach settle. I hate when she’s mad at me. It feels like the world will swallow me whole every time she gives me that bone-chilling look. “Umm, no, but…”
“Thanks for the info, Tabby. But why were you hiding it from me?”
My mouth falls open, too stunned to answer.
Cammy winks. “At least if we’re separated in chemistry, I don’t need to worry about you stabbing me in the back.”
“Stab…” I cut myself off, unable to finish the word due to shock. “I… I didn’t do that. Cammy, Mrs. Field was angry at both of us. And as far as Clint is concerned…”
“Stop bringing up his name.” Cammy folds her arms and shrugs her shoulders. “I mean, I guess you wanted to keep any news about him from me.”
“That’s not true!”
“Look, back in chemistry, you could’ve made up an excuse for us.” Cammy huffs and stamps her foot. “I know you can think of your feet, Tabby. You left me high and dry. Ugh. How’s my hair?”
It takes me so off-guard I barely give her a second glance. “It’s fine.”
“Pfft. Just fine?“ she grumbles and marches off ahead of me.
I’d walk if my jaw weren’t dead weight on the floor. Is she for real? She was arguing with our teacher, doing the you-know-who-my-father-is routine. When was I supposed to speak up? If I had said something, she’d be roasting me about how bad a job I did and that I should’ve shut my trap.
The only highlight is her asking me about her hair. It’s basically what she keeps me around for; hair, makeup, and jewelry advice.
I dawdle behind her on the way to phys-ed. I really should catch up and kiss her shoes until she forgives me. But I need to dismantle the bomb inside my head before I’m catatonic for the rest of the day.
“What the heck took you guys so long?” Yvette complains, waiting for us in the hallway outside the girls’ locker room. “You know I hate going in there alone.”
She stands in her regular Ashworth Academy uniform we all wear. Navy blue blazer over a crisp white blouse with a navy neckerchief. Our pleated skirts are navy and royal blue tartan, our socks are white, and our shoes are shiny black leather.
“Our stupid chemistry teacher went berserk and held us back after class,” Cammy replies.
Yvie smirks. “Why?”
With folded arms, Camila turns my way. “You wanna tell her, Tabby?”
“We were talking in class,” I mutter, stopping in front of them. “Mrs. Field was totally out of line.” I sigh and make eye contact with Camila. “You should have seen how she went off on Cammy. I was so shocked I couldn’t even speak up.”
Camila rolls her eyes and turns to Yvette. “Tabby never stood up for me. She let Mrs. Field humiliate me.”
Yvie’s chin drops. “Why’d you do that, Tabby?”
“I told you,” I murmur. “I was in shock.”
Yvie giggles. “Remind me never to have you back me up in a fight.”
“Girls!” our phys-ed teacher, Coach Oliver, calls out. Her whistle sways from her neck. “Why aren’t I seeing gym uniforms?”
We bustle into the locker room on the other side of the hallway, before Coach Oliver waddles further out of the gym. Inside, there’s only three girls left. The usual suspects who’ll do anything to get out of gym class. Tanya, Bronte, and Rochelle.
Easy pickings.
“Oh my gosh, Cammy,” I whisper harshly, eyeing off Rochelle’s haphazard braids. “Was Rochelle’s hair done by a weed whacker? Like, what’s going on there?”
